


Incarceration

by Elexa



Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 14:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elexa/pseuds/Elexa
Summary: Airships appeared in the sky and Stormwind exploded before their eyes and Umbric and her had to find another safe place for them and their precious cargo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This wouldn’t leave my head and didn’t fit into any other of my stories so it became one of its own. As always please comment or leave kudos, I am always overjoyed to talk with someone over ideas!

The mechanical humming and clanking footsteps of the golem moved past their hideout and Modera let out a silent sigh.

 

In the distance behind them were the smouldering ruin of Stormwind, magic still flashing through the earth beneath their feet.

 

The sky above them was filled with aircrafts, egglike shapes, with their backs pointier than their front made of white stone with gold and red and shimmering with arcane magic which kept them flying. Each one flaunting the crest of the Sin’dorei, just like the numberless golems which marched below.

 

“Come, we have to move.” One of the Ran’dorei rangers mumbled beside her and she re-joined the group back at their hideout.

 

They don’t have any tents, not even fires, and their groups got smaller with each day with the number of people who had been found by the golems rising.

 

Quickly she moved over their only and most precious cargo, a sleeping Sin’dorei. Red hair in a sweaty mess and salty drops running down a wrinkled forehead his normally bright green eyes were tightly shut.

 

“The fever doesn’t seem to go down; he is still burning up.” Magister Umbric informed her. He and his remaining people and hers made up the remaining group.

 

She threw one last mournful glance behind her towards the destroyed city before nodding at him. “In that case we should hurry, there should be a cold river between Elwynn Forest and Duskwood, where we can cool him down. He has to survive until then.”

 

The wish to use her magic was strong but she knew better, they quickly had learned that the golems could detect magic in a wide radius, Aethas simply had to survive until they had something natural cold.

 

Quietly they moved east-south until Goldshire appeared between the remaining trees. They tried to stay as far away from the main roads as possible as they were used to move the legions of machines from region to region.

 

One of the scouts motioned for them to stop and they halted in their step. Before them Goldshire was vacated of any human being, instead they could make out thallasian words in Silvermoon’s dialect, the very same dialect Aethas had when he spoke his mother tongue.

 

Slowly they creeped around the village when suddenly a quiet whir sounded behind them. Out of instinct everyone began to sprint forward as clinking footsteps began to move in their direction and the Thalassian became louder. She could hear one of the Ran’dorei in the back of their group curse as the golem casts its first spell.

 

Beside her she could make out Umbric running, Aethas limp body clutched to his chest. Her breath turned into a rasp and her sides hurt but she only stopped after she had climbed the first few mountains behind Westbrook Garison which were still covered by trees.

 

Holding her breath, she waited and listened to the many curses and screams from those below who had been caught. Umbric leaned against the next tree, eyes closed, and sharp eyes strictly pointed backwards.

 

Slowly the screams and curses faded and the quiet sounds of the golems moved away, glancing around she counted that around two Ran’dorei and three Kirin Tor had been taken, some of those who had made it were heavily leaning against trees, some clutching wounds from where spells had hit them.

 

Again, the need to use magic came up but she knew that this much closer to the airships it would be the greatest mistake they could make.

 

They moved further towards the treeline and further away from the garrison below before reorganizing their plan.

 

“We should move further into the west until we meet the stream, where we could rest for the night and cool down Aethas and care for our own wounded.” She whispered but Umbric only shook his head.

 

“We should move by night and rest during the day, Sin’dorei still resent Elune and worship the sun, they will reread slightly during the night. If we move at all we should do so during the night. However, we can make a break at the stream until the sun has set and continue moving then.”

 

All agreed with a short nod and they climbed over mountains until the finally arrived at the small, but fresh mountain stream.

 

They used its water to clean their wounds and cool down Aethas hot face, who only groaned in his slumber.

 

As soon as the sun had set they peered over the waterfall and found that the bridge was indeed unguarded. Jumping down one after another they broke their falls with quickly placed slowfalls and landed soundless in the river below.

 

They followed the river down until they found a small jetty on the Duskwood side. Climbing out of the river they cursed slightly as the night’s breath cooled down their wet clothes further.

 

Modera only prayed that Aethas wouldn’t catch a cold too.

 

They closely followed the hills that surrounded the twilight groove and made it to the small path that led to its entrance just as the sun coloured the sky red again.

 

However, they halted once they had a clear view into the valley before them, which had been reformed into a crater similar to Theramor, Ironforge and Stormwind.

 

However, unlike Ironforge or Stormwind the area wasn’t littered with golems and for once the sky wasn’t filled with vessels.

 

“Come, we can hide in the tree during the day and make a new plan.” Umbric sounded defeated while facing their original destination.

 

They had planned, originally, to take the old Kal’dorei portal which all had been put into use again after the alliance had lost on Quel’thalas border.

 

But the portal, the whole valley wasn’t anymore. Slowly they moved towards the semi-exploded tree in the centre. As they moved over purple streaked ground, they made out dead bodies below the rubble lying around and she ask herself just when the Sin’dorei had bombed this place.

 

They heavily settled in a circle within the tree stub and more than one Ran’dorei and Kirin Tor broke down in tears. So much for their great plan.

 

“Where should we go to now?” Umbric asked her and for once the elf truly looked as old as he was.

 

Resigned Modera only shrugged her shoulders in answer, she had no idea. With Stormwind and Ironforge lost they had lost any harbour they had in the Eastern Kingdoms and it was only a matter of time until the Exodar and any other Alliance capital fell.

 

And she did not know if Dalaran still existed and if it was still neutral, if Kalec had managed to protect it. Besides, before they would have opened a portal the Golems would be already here.

 

“We need either an Alliance safe point or a neutral zone to hide at and I cannot remember any of my colleges mentioning anyone.” Just then an image flashed in her mind of grey hair and unfunny jokes. She knew where they could stay, at least until things had quieted down.

 

“Except Karazhan! I am sure that Khadgar would give us shelter and he, as the guardian, is respect among the Sin’dorei and neutral!”

 

At that hopefull glances were thrown in her direction and they gathered closer together, while some of the rangers moved up the mountains to see if there were any aircarfts above the Deathwind Pass.

 

With the knowledge, that the sky above the pass was devoid of any elven vessels they planned to stay north of the main road and would only cross it north of Darkshire from where they would make a dead sprint into the Pass.

 

Sending out a small party to refill all water containers they had in the river north from the group they readied themselves for the following day while sharing the last food they still had to silence their rumouring stomachs.

 

Modera woke shortly before Sundown and they creeped up the hill that marked the entrance of the Grove, there they waited until the Sun had fully set before moving through the dark forest.

 

Once in a while they could here groups of golems march on the road below them, but none stopped or strayed from the road.

 

Sneaking around Darkshire they saw that it had hit the same fate as Goldshire and was beset with Sin’dorei.

 

This time, no one was caught while they sprinted through the silent forest until the ground below their feet turned from earthy and radicular to dry and hard. For the first time in weeks she could look up to the clear sky without fear of being caught.

 

They hurried along until Duskwood vanished behind corners and they were sure nobody followed them.

 

Only then did they slow down and walked at a calmer paste towards the growing tower.

 

Just as another day broke, they reached the spire’s entrance, knocking three times on the heavy wooden door she could hear shuffling feet drawing close.

 

The door creaked open and a old, withered head peaked out.

 

“Yes?” the man rumbled, “What do you want?”

 

She painted a friendly smile on her lips and answered:” I am Archmage Modera of the Kirin Tor and those are Magister Umbric and Archmage Aethas Sunreaver and we came to seek shelter from our dear friend Khadgar.”

 

The man mustered them for a second, especially Umbric and his people, then opened the door widely. “I will inform the Masters of your arrival, if you would be so kind and follow me into the dining room?”

 

They ventured into the tower and up the first set of stairs to the right into the dining hall. There they were greeted by an elderly woman who introduced herself as “Cook” and brought them tea and biscuits while they waited.

 

Especially the biscuits were gratefully received as the last meal had been that in the tree stub.

 

Khadgar arrived in one of his trademark robes with a red hooded figure following close behind him.

 

She stood up and tightly hugged her old friend; feeling truly at ease for the first time since they had freed Aethas from prison.

 

“It is good to see you again Modera.” Khadgar smiled brightly at her but his eyes were hooded with concern.

 

“And you, Khadgar. I hate to ask this of you, but we are in need your help. Aethas here has been burning up with fever for nearly a week and we neither have a safe place to stay nor food. Please, you have to help us!”

 

“And we will.” The hooded figure answered in a deep voice.

 

A blush spread on Khadgar’s cheeks as he shifted from one foot to another, “Where are my manners? Modera, dear guests, please let me introduce you to my former Master, Medivh.”

 

The older Magus took of his hood and bowed slightly in greeting.

 

“It is a pleasure to meet all of you and I am sure that you have an interesting story to tell but maybe that can wait until dinner. We should take care of the child first.” The older Guardian said while eying Aethas.

 

They brought the red head to one of the guestrooms and Cook gave him a potion that reduced fever.

 

Dinner was a simple thing and she watched with slight amusement as the elves, who were used to finer meals, watch and eat the food cautiously.

 

“Now then, tell me what brought you to us?” Medivh asked her and so she told him.


	2. Chapter 2

They, the Horde and Alliance together, had fought and won against N’zoth and Sylvannas Windrunner. Voices grew louder, in both fractions, to finally end this war but Tyrande Whisperwind in her grief and anger motivated the other Alliance leaders into what would become their greatest failure and their downfall.

 

They marched on the closest Horde Capital which was Silvermoon up in Quel’thals. Seeing as Undercity was only a ruin, forsaken by the Horde their march north was without any resistance.

 

It was shortly after they had crossed the boarder into the Eastern Plaguelands when Aethas approached them.

 

They had opened their camp for the night on the road when they had been informed of an elf on a hawkstrider fast approaching.

 

Aethas brought through on her plea had warned them at first before quickly turning to pleading with them to turn around.

 

Tyrande had only laughed at the by then kneeling elf and had accused the Sin’dorei of being stagnant and that they haven’t changed nor invented anything over the last decades. She accused him of fear for his own homeland.

 

Before Modera could intervene, her friend had been dragged away by Nightelves while their leaders ignored the urgent warning.

 

Once they had entered the small pass which lead to the only passage through the blindingly golden dome over the elven kingdom there was no turning back.

 

To say that they were not prepared for what they would find on the other side would be an understatement. Upon arriving in the Ghostlands they were met with an army of Golems which they never had seen before.

 

Immune to any and all of their spells their ranks were quickly slaughtered as some kind of laser cannons quickly destroyed their siege machines.

 

They had only gained about a hundred feed of land when the golems began to move towards them pushing their front back out of the foreign land.

 

But by that point more men were fleeing than fighting and Modera found herself sprinting down the pass and back into the Plagueland alongside her remaining Kirin Tor Mages.

 

The journey back to the last camp was all but a blur and she vaguely heard King Anduin call for a retreat.

 

She had tried to get to Aethas during the long travel back, but she only received the same answer:” No visitors are allowed to the prisoner.”

 

Most of their wounded died on the way to Ironforge and even further did not survive the train ride to Stormwind, those that did returned to lap at their wounds.

 

It was only a month after they had returned that Ironforge fell and the tube connecting the two cities was destroyed. Scouts reported that a bomb similar to a mana bomb had destroyed the whole mountain and the nearest village.

 

Reports of huge ships in the sky came back and hundreds of thousands of golems which marched south.

 

It was during that time that Modera came to the conclusion that she had to take Aethas and leave the city behind before the Sin’dorei reached them.

 

She had found an unlike ally in Magister Umbric who helped her locate and free Aethas from Stormwind Keep.

 

Her friend had been a horrible picture; Stormwind’s torturers did their best to get all information from him before letting him rot in his cell.

 

They had fled the city north to the Redridge Mountains where they stayed in an abandoned castle, high above the city and away from everything.

 

However, they had barely enough time to heal the worst of Aethas wounds before the Sin’dorei with their endless army of golems arrived.

 

Seeing the ships hovering in the sky above them for the first time had been a terrifying experience.

 

They planned to return to Stormwind and take a boat from there to Kalimdor.

 

Short of arriving the crossing to North Shire they watched as a single bomb was dropped on their capital and erased millions of lives within seconds.

 

From there they moved south before finally arriving at Karazhan.


	3. Chapter 3

Ending her story she took a deep breath and looked over at the Guardians of which the older one only nodded.

 

“So, it is even more dire than I thought. The Alliance has finally poked an anthill that went deeper than they could handle.” Medivh said, eyes far away.

 

“In that case all we can do for you is give you shelter until the elves will come looking for you. In that case I cannot hide you any longer; As Guardians we are forced to be neutral.”

 

“But until that day you are safe here.” Khadgar cut in, smiling fondly at them.

 

After dinner they were lead into guest rooms and Moder was relieved that her room was next to that of Aethas.

 

Days turned into a week and all of them got better, all of them profited from regular meals and those sick or wounded from the medicine.

 

One week and a half in their stay Aethas gained consciousness for the first time in weeks.

 

He had taken the news of what had happened surprisingly well. He still  laid pale and faintly in his bed while he listened to them explaining but he didn’t tried to raise from his bed. However, he did slump down in his bed afterwards and Modera was surprised when Umbric knelt next to Aethas and spoke some quick Thalassian which she couldn’t understand but after which Aethas seemed a little better.

 

The second week wasn’t over yet when there was a pale elf at Karazhan’s door.

 

“I am Koltira Deathweaver and this is Thassarian and I am here for Lord Sunfury.” He motioned to a man that stood some feet away in the spire’s shadow.

Their shiny blue eyes identified them as Death Knights and Modera remembered vaguely that Aethas ones told her of a undead elf with the name Koltira that he met.

 

She lead both of them to Aethas sleeping form, the young elf hadn’t done much other than sleep in the past few days.

 

Koltira sat down beside him and Thassarian stayed by the door and threw a questioning glance towards the nearby hovering Ran’dorei.

 

Umbric stormed into the room a few minutes later and stopped short of the other conscious elf in the room, “What are you doing here, Deathweaver?”

 

Koltira mustered the Magister unimpressed while Thassarian moved towards the purple elf, “I am here to do my job, Umbric. What are you doing here? Hiding away again?”

 

Umbric puffed his chest and Modera got ready to either stop him or the other nearing Death Knight but for now the Magister choose words over spells:” And what is your job, Undead?”

 

At that a smug smile spread on Koltira’s face,” Being the young Lord’s bodyguard of course.”

 

“Young Lord? What young Lord?” Umbric asked confused, glancing over to her but she only shrugged her shoulders.

 

“Oh? Didn’t he tell you?” Koltira was mocking both of them now, “Technically he even is the next in line for the throne which would make him prince.”

 

A groan from the red head stopped the undead elf in his mocking and four pairs of eyes turned to the waking boy.

 

Before Modera could move towards the bed Deathweaver had sprung up and stood next to Aethas head.

 

Bright green eyes blinked open only to meet with just as bright shining blue ones.

 

“Hello Aethas, you nearly scared the living death out of me, you brat.”

 

A deep rumbling noise came from the other Death Knight and it took Modera some time to understand it as a laugh.

 

Aethas, in the meantime, paled in his bed and glanced frantically over towards her.

 

“And now I don’t even get a `Hello Koltira thank you for protecting me from my own stupidity´? Just wait until your father knows about all this, he will ground you for the rest of your life or chain himself to you personally!” The undead elf continued on screeching and now Aethas looked positively dead next to his white sheets.

 

“Now, Now, Koltira, cut the boy some slack. He is still alive and in one piece, that is all that matters.” The deep voice of the Thassarian boomed and did wonders for his companion.

 

The blonde elf sighed deeply before continuing in a much calmer voice, “We’ve been following your little group of rescuers for a few days now and I am certain that your father will be here running down the front door in about a few days.” Then he turned to Umbric, “Your service for house Sunfury won’t be forgotten and I am sure that Grand Magister Rommath will repay you plentiful.”

 

Recognition dawned on Umbric’s face and he turned to Aethas but before he could address the still pale elf Koltira addressed her, “As for you, human, I am not quite sure what will happen to you. If your lucky the Grand Magister will have a good deal arranged for you so that you won’t be sorted into the lower slaves. Maybe he even will let you return to Dalaran.”

 

“Slaves?” came the croaked question from Aethas as he blinked up at them.

 

Thassarian stepped closer, his heavy boots thumping on the wooden floor. “Yes, the Sin’dorei are putting each Alliance citizen they can find into slave classes, only those in the neutral zones with a neutralization vow are safe.”

 

Throwing a glance between the two Death Knights a mischievous grin stretched on Aethas lips, “Why Deathweaver I never _imagined_ the kind of _relationship_ you have with _your_ human.”

 

Koltira only paled in answer while Thassarian’s face gained a blue hue, “We are Death Knights, you idiot, and therefore neutral. Thassarian is not my slave!” Koltira hissed.

 

“Really? Because it looks as if he wouldn’t mind being just that.” Aethas whistled back.

 

Thassarian cleared his throat, loudly, before changing the topic, cheeks still burning blue. “That is not of importance right now. What is important is that your father, our employer, will be here in a few days and all you have to do is survive until then.”

 

It took Grand Magister Rommath three days to appear at the tower and those days were severely different to those before.

 

For one, there was always at least one Death Knight guarding the door. Most of the time it was Koltira whose cold blue eyes scanned each visitor before letting him inside.

 

Seconds were the loud discussions between Aethas and Umbric which only stopped when the later was forcefully dragged from the room in various states of roasted.

 

Modera had, between her visits and discussions with Aethas, opened portals for her men to Dalaran. Until, during the third day she was the last human, safe for the two Guardians and their staff in the tower.

 

She spent that day with Aethas and listened to what he told her. Listened to how he had to get a blood transfusion after the Purge of his beloved city and that someone had used some of his extracted blood to search for matches within the thallasian archive.

 

As it was elven it had taken some time, year to be franc, but after those years when he had already returned to Dalaran the archive had spit out a list of all living relatives.

 

 

Aethas, who had grown up in an orphanage and later at the academy, had always believed himself an orphan and had taken the orphanages name when he left it as all unadopted orphans did. Only to learn that he was not an orphan and that his father had thought him dead for decades.

 

He didn’t give her his birth name, said that it didn’t matter, that he still was at least Aethas and that his father had agreed with that. His surname, however, was a different matter. His father, his last living relative, wanted him to take his rightful name against which Aethas argued that Sunreaver was his rightful one.

 

Finding out on accident that his father wants to change his name against his will, he had fled the city in which people only addressed him as his Lordship, he had heard of their march on Silvermoon and had hoped that as exchange for warning them they would grant him shelter from his father.

 

When Modera had asked him why his father could change his name without his consent he had only laughed dryly, “I might be old in your standards, my friend, but for elves I am a little older than a school boy, a talented school boy, but still only a boy. I am not of age yet and won’t be within the next three decades.”

 

So, when the Grand Magister finally arrived it was with a small leagion of golems and rangers behind him. Watching Aethas wobble out of his room and down the stairs was a pitiful sight but she knew that there was nothing she could do.

 

She expected many ways the Grand Magister could react and gathering his son up in a tight hug was one of the least ones but that was exactly what happened, followed by a scolding of a lifetime and a grounding she had never heard before. Then he ushered Aethas towards a carriage which she hadn’t seen at first as it was hidden behind the golems.

 

Returning he addressed the Ran’dorei and invited them back towards Quel’thals, not to Quel’danas, but he lightened their exiles. Silently Modera watched many of the Ran’dorei break out in happy tears before joining their brethren outside.

 

Finally, he turned towards her and she shivered slightly as his scrutinizing eyes drifted over her. “Archmage. I hate to say this, but, thank you for rescuing my foolish son. I believe, letting you go just once might be more than enough as repayment.”

 

Bowing slightly he thanked the two Guardians too before joining the group behind him.

 

Silently, she watched the golden group with its two black members move towards the north where one single airship hovered ominously near the Pass.

 

“What are you going to do now?” Khadgar asked her and she didn’t had to think for long before answering, “I will join Kalec in Dalaran. Where else would I go?”

 

She watched a smile spread on her friends lips, “Of course, Archmage Modera of the Kirin Tor.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sin’dorei, while not very forgiving were not overly cruel. Many of those that were enslaved were let free by their masters shortly after and the rebuilding of the capital cities began. The regions still bore the marks of the land and it will decades and centuries for the magic to fade but over time it will.

 

Modera stood near Krasus Landing and was awaiting the delegation from Silvermoon.

 

Two months ago, a herald had arrived and had proclaimed that Lord Sunfury will come and visit the city. Since then everyone had been busy with preparing their beloved city.

 

Beside her Kalecgos shifted uncomfortably in the new and pressed formal robes all Archmagi of the counsel of six wore for this important meeting.

 

This peaceful meeting will be proof of Dalaran’s true neutrality and therefore everyone looked their absolute best.

 

Finally a elven airships teleported near by and moved closer until a broad walkway could be put between them.

 

Two neat rows of guards stepped out; each row closely followed by a golem. The guards took their positions and finally a male elf with fiery red hair and golden robes emerged from the vessel. His steps echoed in the newly fallen silence and as he came closer, she could see all the patterns and gems on his robes and in his hair. Delicate golden chains connected singular pieces of jewellery into one grand gleaming net which spread over the elf.

 

“Anu belore dela’na, Archmagi! Thank you for having us.” Aethas greeted them.


End file.
